For some communities the age of terrorism began long before the attacks on September 11th. Living in perpetual fear and trauma they know firsthand the impacts  violence, crime, poverty, or isolation can have on the human psyche. For them it seems as if deep loss and pain calls out to greater misfortune and they're ever submerged under waves of sorrow. In a sense, they've learned how to make their home in the valley of the shadow of death all the while maintaining hope of life on top of the mountain. Dredging through valleys is not uncommon for certain communities and they've the challenge of balancing grief and new normalcy. A year ago today, our country collectively entered that valley when a gunman walked into a bible study at "Mother" Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina. Indicative of our African heritage and Christian character the attendees extended hospitality to a stranger and welcomed him among them. However, what ensued was the manifestation of evil as their neighbor, beguiled by a force that opposes good, became unneighborly. In his wake, nine people were killed, families shattered, and a nation was brought to its knees in disbelief and prayer. The  trauma of terrorism felt by so many marginalized communities was now felt nationally as our collective conscious sank in sorrow.

Like the prophets of old, we tore our proverbial clothes, wept aloud, swore and sat in dismay. It was incomprehensible that someone would walk into holy space and commit such an unholy act. We strained to fathom how sacred space could become the place of profaneness. We watched as details surfaced and resonated with the stories shared by the victims loved-ones. In a sense, they were our mothers, fathers, pastors, brothers, sisters and friends. We understood that not only were those lives taken from Charleston but they were taken from America. They were taken from a wider village that was tired of racial disparity, inequity and violence. They were snatched from a people who had grown weary of senseless shootings, bigotry and ignorance. So, our collective tiredness and mourning turned into shared action. We as a family were not going to sit idly by as erroneous ideologies widened the gap of our brotherly love. We used this egregious event as the platform to address the issue of race that still pervades this country and the necessity for gun control. Collectively, we were not going to allow those who lost their lives to die in vain.